


better to love

by CallicoKitten



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:53:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: He leads Steve out. Steve lets himself be led and the thing is, he thinks, when they’re out there amongst all the green and sunshine and life is that it would be so easy – so, so easy to stay. To stay here. To stay with Buck. To stay forever. God, I love you, he thinks, helplessly when Buck smiles. ‘til the end of the line, ‘til death do us part and everything in between.But –-Wanda's not the only one stealing moments between Civil War and Infinity War





	better to love

**Author's Note:**

> um, this is not happy at all so consider yourselves warned
> 
> title is from deep green by marika hackman

Nat’s hand is on his shoulder, fingers curled in gently.

“Steve.”

“I need a – ” He manages between the breaths. “I need – Just – ”

He hears Nat swallow. Hears the shuffle of movement behind him.

Sees Buck walking towards him. Sees Buck fall. Sees Buck disintegrate.

“Guys, I can’t find Sam,” Rhodes says behind him, voice unsteady, rising slightly like the bile in Steve’s throat.

 _Oh, god,_ he thinks. _Oh, god, oh god, oh god._

Nat squeezes his shoulder.

Thor turns towards them.

“Come on, Steven,” he says, and his voice is soft and worn in a way Steve hasn’t heard it before. “This is no time to surrender.”

-

T’Challa sends him a message the day Shuri decides Buck’s well enough to come out of stasis. Steve’s somewhere in South America, somewhere in either Brazil or Bolivia where they’ve been turned onto a small band of people traffickers that specialise in kidnapping enhanced individuals and selling them into servitude with rich Westerners. Over the phone, Shuri explains using a lot of words that Steve’s not sure he understands completely, that she thinks she’s managed to de-programme him, to pick apart the poison Buck’s had woven into him and take it out piece by piece.

“We’re going to wake him up, Captain,” she says, when she’s finished and Steve can hear the pride in her voice. “He can’t lie around taking up space in my lab forever.”

Across the jet, Sam is watching him closely. Nat and Wanda are out somewhere on a provision run. Clint and Scott are long gone.

“We thought you would like to be there when he wakes up,” T’Challa says. “It would probably be good for him.”

“It would _definitely_ be good for him, brother,” Shuri says and Steve can hear the eye-roll in her voice. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder whether you have any understanding of people at all.”

“I am a King. I thought that was what I had advisors for,” T’Challa says and Shuri laughs, mutters _this guy,_ with such affection that Steve feels warm, can’t help but smile.

“So, what do you say, Captain?” T’Challa prompts.

“Yeah,” Steve says, but it comes out all cracked and weak the first time so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like to be there.”

“Fantastic,” T’Challa says, while Shuri laughs and whoops. “How soon can you be here.”

Steve looks up at Sam. “Tomorrow?”

Sam raises his eyebrows.

“Excellent. We will see you soon then, Captain.” T’Challa says, signing off.

Sam stands when Steve lowers the phone from his ear. “So, Wakanda, then?”

Steve nods. “Wakanda.”

“Better go find Nat and the kid, then.”

-

Steve doesn’t really remember much of his dreams these days. There’s mostly bursts of sound and colour, fragmented voices over and over. The bright white of snow, the deep red of Stark’s blood, the blue of the tesseract, the deep brown of clumps of earth and tangled roots as they’re wrenched from the ground and Bourne aloft, the sickly green of his old combat fatigues.

 _Zhelaniye,_ Zemo says. _Rzhavyy_.

 _Longing,_ Nat translates later, her voice shaking slightly as she recites them. _Rusted._

Bucky’s hands curl around the iron railing in Red Skull’s base. They groan under his weight, if he leans forwards anymore they’ll give way.

 _Go!_ Steve urges.

_No! Not without you!_

_Seventeen_ , Nat says. _Daybreak, furnace._

 _I don’t think he’s the kind you save, Cap,_ Sam says.

_Nine. Benign. Homecoming._

Peggy holds back her tears as he pilots the plane into the ocean.

 _Your Mom’s name was Sara,_ Bucky says, throat raw.

Steve’s chasing him, chasing him, chasing him, chasing him. Chasing him always.

 _One,_ Nat says.

Helping Buck back to their tent somewhere in France or Belgium, Buck hanging from his shoulder, unsteady legs, slurring his words. Steve can smell the liquor on him, tries to convince himself he’s not disappointed. _Sorry you struck out, Buck,_ he says, of the barmaid that turned Buck down when Steve arrived to fetch him and Buck laughs.

 _Don’t mind it none,_ he says. _I already know the one for me._

Then there’s the roar of the train, snow in his hair, cold metal beneath his hands.

 _Freightcar,_ Nat says and Buck screams.

He jerks awake, Sam’s hand on his shoulder. “We’re here,” he says, pats Steve once and moves off to give him space to compose himself.

-

Colonel Rhodes has been their man on the inside since Nat joined them full time. He’s better placed than Nick or Maria who are currently on the run or at least off somewhere doing something they’re keen to keep under wraps and than Clint and Scott who are under watch 24/7.

Steve calls him to give him an update while they wait. “We took down the smugglers. We’ve brought the enhanced they had with them to Wakanda, the hard-drives they had with them too. We think they’re part of a larger network though.”

Rhodey sighs. “Yeah, yeah. I figured. Look, send me what you can get off those drives and I’ll hand it over. We can take it from here now we’ve got proof.”

“And the enhanced?” Steve asks.

Rhodey’s quiet a moment. “We might need them as proof,” he says, eventually. “Keep them there for now, though. I’ll tell Ross they sent us this stuff under the condition they can stay anonymous and unaffected by the Accords. They might get snippy but I’ll handle them.”

Steve smiles. “Thanks, Colonel. I knew I could count on you.”

Rhodey sighs. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a saint. Now you better sign off before someone catches me talking to a wanted fugitive.”

“Will do. See you, Rhodey.”

“Yeah, not too soon though, Cap.”

Rhodey hangs up and Steve slides the phone back into his pocket.

“All good?” Nat asks.

“All good.”

“How’s Tony?”

Steve looks down, takes a breath. “I didn’t ask.”

The corner of Nat’s mouth twitches but she says nothing. After a moment, she turns, starts up the stairs away from Shuri’s lab.

“If something was up, Rhodey would call us,” he calls after her.

All he hears in response is her boots against the smooth floor.

“Captain,” T’Challa calls. “My sister is ready for you now.”

-

Buck comes awake in stages. Never was like that before, Steve thinks, watching as his eyes move behind the lids, as he frowns slightly, as his eye’s flutter. He remembers being back in Brooklyn, pressed together in Buck’s bed against the cold, ratty blanket thrown across the both of them and one hand pressed tight across his mouth to stifle his coughing, his wheezing. Bucky was the only one with a job, their only pay check, he had an early start, he needed rest.

Buck woke up though, gave a sharp intake of breath. _Stevie._ And then he was awake properly, sitting up, “What’s the matter, Steve? What’s wrong?”

Now, Bucky wrinkles his forehead, opens his eyes blearily and looks up at the bright ceiling, uncomprehending. He tilts his head towards Steve first. “Steve? What – ”

Steve steps forward, reaches out to grasp Buck’s hand. “I’m here,” he says.

Bucky blinks a couple of times. Swallows thickly. “What – Who – ” then he swallows again. “Where’s the fight?”

And Steve –

“No, Buck,” he says, swallowing back the sorrow, the rage, the exhaustion. “No. There’s no fight.”

Bucky frowns, starts to try and sit up but forgets he only has one arm and makes a little sound of frustration. “Then why – ”

“I fixed you,” Shuri says, leaning forwards. “At least, I think I did. I _hope_ I did. We’d need to experiment but – ”

“No,” Buck says sharply.

“But – ” Shuri protests.

“I said _no_ ,” Bucky repeats and Steve sets his other hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he says gently, soothingly. “Hey, breathe, Buck. Breathe. You’re alright now.” He slides his hand down to Buck’s chest, like Buck’s down for him too many times to count. “You’re okay. You won’t hurt anyone.”

Bucky lets go off Steve’s hand to grasp at his wrist. “I might though,” he says, eyes wide and urgent.

T’Challa steps forwards. “No one here will let you do that. You have my word, Sergeant Barnes.”

-

“So, you planning on bringing him with us?” Sam asks, standing shoulder to shoulder with Steve as Shuri runs some basic tests.

Steve shifts. “If that’s what he wants.”

Sam takes a breath. “That might not be best. For either of you. We need you sharp, Rogers, especially now we don’t have much in the way of back up and Bucky doesn’t really lend himself to that for you.”

“I know,” Steve says. And he does. Knows as well as everyone in this room that if it all came down to choosing Buck or the world Steve would at the very least hesitate. He tears his gaze away from Shuri shining bright lights into Bucky’s eyes and nudges Sam’s shoulder with his. “I know, Sam.”

Sam nods slowly.

-

“So let me get this straight,” Bucky says. “You and Bird-boy and Nat and the witch are a secretive group trying to take down evil organisations and save people all the while being on the run and mostly behind enemy lines? I think I’ve heard this one, Stevie.”

Steve smiles.

They’re sat out on the balcony of the room T’Challa’s giving Bucky in the palace. Bucky’s leant against the low wall, looking out over Wakanda, Steve stands beside him with his back against the wall, watching Bucky closely. Buck’s hands are clasped together, his eyes slide unseeing across the city stretched beneath them.

“It didn’t end so well for the heroes last time,” Bucky says quietly.

Steve shrugs. “I dunno, Buck. Some of them got happy endings,” he’s thinking of Peg, of the rest of the Commandos. Hell, even Howard might’ve been happy there for a while. “Besides, this is a different story now. It might have a better ending.”

“Might have a worse one, too.”

“Well, I guess I just have to be willing to take that chance.”

Bucky looks up at him, squinting slightly in the bright of the sun. There’s resignation in his gaze. “I know I’m never gonna convince you of this but you don’t though, is the thing. You could stop, you know? Or at least take a break, or something. A vacay. Remember all the trips we had planned when we were kids?”

Steve laughs. “Kind of hard to just kick back when you’re at the top of several most wanted lists.”

“You’re safe here,” Bucky says, his meaning clear.

 “I know,” he says softly and Buck’s mouth twists so Steve looks down briefly, hopes Buck doesn’t read too much into it. He turns his body slightly, tilts himself more towards Buck and folds his arms. _If you ask me to stay,_ he thinks, _I probably would,_ but then he thinks of the two kids they rescued yesterday, of the hundreds more there could be out there. He thinks of the war, of Red Skull, of Ultron, of Hydra, of Loki.

Of Tony Stark who fits somewhere in between or maybe not depending on how Steve’s feeling that day.

“But there are people out there who need you, I know, Rogers,” Buck says and his voice is light, his tone is playful and wry and full of that _what am I gonna do with you, huh?_ attitude Buck’s always had when it comes to him but Steve knows he’s annoyed, knows he’s hurt by the slope of his shoulders, the soft little exhale before he speaks.

Steve reaches out, sets a hand very gently on the small of Buck’s back. Bucky stiffens for a moment before he exhales, slumps further forwards, arcs his back up into Steve’s touch. “Buck,” Steve says, soft and gentle and, he hopes, full of meaning.

“Why’d you gotta be so _you,_ Rogers?”

Steve smiles, starts rubbing Buck’s back in soothing circles. “I haven’t figured out any other way to be, Buck.”

Bucky nods. “I’m not coming with you,” he says, after a moment. “But I’ll be here if you need me, okay?”

“Okay, Buck, okay.”

-

“Are you in love with him?” Nat asks, head tilted to the side curiously.

He’s still out on the balcony, Buck’s gone to bed. The stars stretched across the sky seem a hundred times brighter here.

“In love with who, Nat?” Steve asks, even though they both know who she’s talking about.

She doesn’t dignify him with a response, crosses the balcony until she’s standing beside him and peers up his face. She does this a lot, Steve’s noticed, searches his face for something, all the while giving nothing away herself. Steve holds her gaze, prompts, “Nat?”

She shakes her head before she looks away. Then turns her back to him, leans front first against the wall. “No one would blame you if you stopped, you know,” she says. “If you wanted to stay.”

Steve sighs but Nat turns to face him before he can respond. “I know. We’ve got work to do.”

“Yes,” Steve says and Nat nods, pushes off the wall and walks back towards the palace. She pauses as she passes him though, looks up and says, “I’m not as good at this as Sam, Steve, but you know you deserve to be happy, right?”

She carries on walking, is gone before Steve can figure out how to respond.

-

He hugs Buck goodbye, holds him tight as Bucky presses his face into Steve’s collarbone. “I’ll see you soon,” he says. “You can call if you need anything.”

“You too, Steve,” Bucky says, as they break apart.

They’re leaving because Rhodes called, because Nick Fury’s left a message or a mission for them somewhere but because it’s gone through Maria, they’ll have to jump through several hoops and cross a few borders to get it.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Shuri says. “We’ll take good care of your boy for you.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “My boy, huh?”

“I’m not his boy,” Bucky tells her. “If anything, he’s _my_ boy. Tell her, Steve.” And right there he sounds so much like Bucky, the old Bucky – _Steve’s_ Bucky – that it feels kind of like taking a punch to the chest.

Steve manages to laughs lightly, to say, “Whatever you say, Buck.” And he thinks he manages to sound like he’s not coming apart at the seams. Bucky smiles at him, smiles at Shuri.

 _Are you in love with him?_  Nat had asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Sam’s saying to Nat when Steve climbs onboard. “He’s head over heels.”

He says it loud enough that Steve’s meant to hear but quiet enough that Steve knows he’s pretending he thinks Steve can’t.

-

Buck calls him every few days, always has some sort of excuse – T’Challa said _this_ , he heard _this_ on the radio, Shuri was talking about _that_. He talks about Wakanda, all the technology they have there, how he can’t believe he was ever impressed by Howard Stark and his halfway-to-hover car. He talks about living out with the Border Tribe, the work he does there.

“It’s good work, Steve,” he says. “Hard, honest. Simple, too. It’s nice, gives me time to think.”

“That’s good, Buck,” Steve tells him. “That’s good.”

He feels empty when he hangs up. Holds the phone to his ear a little longer than necessary, lowers it slowly. Breathes in. Breathes out. Feels like there’s this huge empty pity somewhere between his ribs that keeps getting bigger. Feels like his breath whistles through it, rattles against his ribcage.

It’s nothing to how he feels when they’re talking, though. Like there’s this vice around his chest or he’s small again and his lungs can’t handle living in any meaningful way, clenching tighter and tighter and tighter.

“These are the sort of things we talk about in group, you know,” Sam says, one evening over the Atlantic.

Steve can’t manage a lie so he smiles instead and throws himself headfirst into their next mission.

“There’s a metaphor in here somewhere,” Sam mutters, patching him up later.

-

It’s a few months before they’re back in Wakanda again. The teams run ragged, getting on each other’s nerves, treading on eggshells.

“You’re avoiding him,” Wanda tosses out casually as they take off from Iceland.

Steve’s piloting, doesn’t look back at her. “I’m not avoiding anyone.”

She sighs, mutters something under her breath that Steve doesn’t quite catch and says, “I can make you see it for yourself, if you want.” There’s the gentle hiss and crackle of her magic and Steve pictures her winding one smoky-red tendril around her finger and bites back the flinch. He still remembers what that felt like. How real it all was.

He opens his mouth but Nat gets there first, pads across to the co-pilots seat and sits down in it, twisting to face Wanda. “There’s no point in threatening him. I’ve already tried. Steve here is either stubborn as hell or as pure and innocent as all those comics from the ‘50’s would have us believe.”

“What is this?” Steve asks, glancing over at her. “You ganging up on me?”

Nat tilts her head, quirks her lips. “Maybe it’s somewhere between the two.”

Steve glares at her, twists around to try and spot Sam who shakes his head and says, “Don’t even try to get me involved, Rogers. You won’t like which side I come down on.”

And Steve huffs, turns back to the controls. “Well, you know what? Fine. We’ll go to Wakanda. Prove to all of you that I’m not avoiding him.”

He’s pretty sure Wanda and Sam are sharing a triumphant smile behind his head, Nat smiles too, leans her head against the back of her chair and says, “Interesting your mind went there, Cap. For all you know we could have been talking about Stark.”

-

Buck’s not there to meet them when they arrive, T’Challa says he’ll be there soon and Sam and Nat and Wanda go their separate ways.

“I had hoped we would see more of you, Steve,” T’Challa says. “Colonel Rhodes says you have been busy since we last met. You know you are always welcome here, no harm will come to you or any of your team.”

Steve nods, drops his gaze. “Thank you and – I know. It’s just been difficult. We have to keep moving so – ” He breaks off because Bucky arrives and T’Challa smiles, says they can continue this later.

Buck hugs him tight first, frowns and tugs on Steve’s beard second and the feel of it – of Buck’s rough fingers against his jaw – makes Steve swallow hard. “Yeah,” Bucky says. “Not a fan of this. What’s it for? You going for a look? You hoping Carter’s niece will give you another shot if you look more rugged? You know there’s no shame in looking like _you_ , Stevie. You got no one to impress.”

Steve jerks his chin out of Bucky’s grip and smiles. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Buck. I just haven’t had all that much time to shave.”

Bucky waves him off. “Yeah, yeah. Too busy saving the world to shave, who hasn’t heard that one before.” He claps Steve on the shoulder, lets his hand linger there. “Come on, you gotta come out to the border with me, Steve, it’s _beautiful_.”

He leads Steve out. Steve lets himself be led and the thing is, he thinks, when they’re out there amongst all the green and sunshine and _life_ is that it would be so easy – so, _so_ easy to stay. To stay here. To stay with Buck. To stay forever. _God, I love you,_ he thinks, helplessly when Buck smiles. _‘til the end of the line, ‘til death do us part and everything in between._

But –

But there’s this whole other thing. This thing where he turns away for a second and his mind is already convinced he made Buck up, that the real Bucky Barnes is long dead and this is stress or depression or desperation. The thing where he spends his time in Wakanda sleeping in Buck’s hut out under the stars only he doesn’t really sleep, he mostly watches Buck’s chest rise and fall. Watches for nightmares and must have a few himself because he jerks awake once to Bucky’s hand on his shoulder, his voice sleep rough saying, “It’s alright, Stevie. You’re safe. It’s just a dream.”

He dreams mostly of ice crawling up Bucky’s throat even as he claws and begs and screams.

-

“You know he loves you back, right?” Sam says, low in Steve’s ear as they’re taking off. They’re pretty high up by that point but Steve’s still standing by the jet door, looking out the small window at the ground.

“Steve.”

Steve looks at him.

“Look, I might not be crazy about the guy but he must be the same kind of stupid as you.” He sets a hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezes. “You deserve to be happy, man.”

-

In New Zealand, Wanda sneaks off to meet Vision. She gives them some half-baked story about wanting some time to herself to do Young Person Things, or something and no one really has the heart to tell her they know she’s lying.

They keep a close eye on her just in case. He and Nat watch from a rooftop as they meet, as they embrace tightly. Vision looks more and more human each time he shows up, Steve tries not to find it unsettling as he watches Wanda stroke his cheek. He draws back. It feels wrong to watch them like this, to see her so happy and light and unguarded.

“Tapping out early, Cap?” Nat asks. “Is it offending your pure heart and morals or reminding you too much of what you could have?” There’s a curl of affection to her words. She nudges his shoulder playfully.

Steve covers his eyes with his hand briefly, takes a steadying breath. “I don’t want to ruin anything,” he says, quietly.

Nat’s quiet after that for a moment, probably hadn’t banked on him responding. Steve’s about to turn back to her when she speaks, says in this calm, certain voice, “You won’t.”

-

It’s on the tip of his tongue every time they talk after that but the vice-like grip is still there. The fear that he’ll break this, shatter it. That he’ll say it out loud and everything will collapse in on itself and he’ll end up back where he started.

“Buck – ” He says, over and over again.

“Yeah, Steve?” Buck says back, sometimes tired, sometimes expectant.

The words die in his throat. Steve swallows. “See you soon, okay?”

-

“Just so you know, we’ve got a bet going on,” Sam tells him. “Over whether you’ll man up and tell Barnes how you feel before one or both of you finally makes it to a grave.”

Steve smiles wryly. “I dunno, those seem like pretty good odds. How many things have tried to kill me this week and how many have succeeded?”

Sam smiles back.

-

He doesn’t say anything until they’re three more visits in.

It’s storming. They’re up at the palace tonight for Shuri’s birthday party and watch the wind and the rain and the lightning from the balcony. Well, Buck watches the lightning. Steve watches him.

He’s been trying to build up to it all day, figuring out the right words, the right order. The balcony has this invisible forcefield over it to stop the rain getting in and soaking them but Bucky keeps leaning out to look up at it, ducks back under with his hair damp and curling. A lock of it sticks to his cheek, curls around his jaw and Steve reaches out without thinking to push it back.

Buck jumps when Steve touches him, goes rigid for a fraction of a second until his eyes snap over and he realises it’s Steve. He quirks out this little smile of thanks as Steve pushes brushes the hair away, as Steve lets his touch linger at the back of Bucky’s neck. He’s warm under Steve’s hands, damp from the rain, dressed in an outfit of loose blue fabrics.

Steve’s voice is strangled, dies in his throat.

“ _Buck_ – ” he manages.

Bucky’s eyes are closed, he leans into Steve’s touch. “I know, Steve. I know,” he says and then he moves, presses himself up against Steve, buries his face in Steve’s shoulder. “I knew you were kind of slow on the uptake, Rogers but _Jesus,_ I thought I’d be pushing two-hundred before you finally figured it out.”

Steve laughs, pretends the wetness is from the rain, from Buck’s hair. “I always get there in the end, you know me.”

Bucky hums and Steve feels it in his chest. He closes his eyes, holds Buck as tight against him as he can bear. They’re only hear for a short stop off, heading out to Scotland early tomorrow morning. He can hear Buck’s voice now, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, _never were much for timing, were ya, Stevie?_

“I’ll come back,” he says, mostly into Buck’s hair. “After Scotland. We can talk, alright? Properly.”

Buck hums again. “Whatever you say, Rogers,” he says and Steve feels the ghost of a kiss pressed to the base of his throat.

-

 _Steve,_ Buck says, over and over again in his head. He grips his knee, digs his nails in deep.

They’re in the palace. Shuri stands with tears in her eyes but her head held eye. “Tell me what I need to do to get my brother back, God-boy,” she says to Thor who passes a hand across his face tiredly.

“Yes,” he says, faintly. “I’d like my brother back too.”

Steve wants to say something to make Thor look less exhausted, less lost but his mind is still stuck on a loop. _Steve,_ Buck says. _I can’t find Sam,_ Rhodes says.

Nat’s hand is still on his shoulder, grounding him.

Thor takes a breath. “There is only one thing I can think of to fix this,” he says. “The Infinity Stones. One of them is called the Time Stone. If it still worked we could…” He trails off.

“So, let’s go get it,” the talking raccoon he brought with him says. The raccoon crosses his arms when Thor looks at him. “What? We need to make things unhappen so let’s go get something that can do unhappening! And figure out how Quill and the morons are doing along the way. What? What’s the matter? You scared of that big lug or something? You guys beat him once. You only lost because One-Eye here didn’t aim for the head the first time around.”

Thor smiles at him tiredly, “Well, when you put it like that. What have we got to lose anyway?” He turns to the rest of them. “Natasha? Steven?”

Nat looks at Steve. Steve stands up. “Let’s go get our friends back.”

 


End file.
